My afternoon with Donald Trump — he’s the same today

In 1993, I had an extended one-on-one interview with Donald Trump, now the news-darling presidential candidate. As usual, after you meet someone who later becomes a national topic, you wish you’d paid better attention. But even so, it stuck in my mind.

Trump was a celebrity at the AT&T Golf Tournament in Pebble Beach. Frankly, he was one of many celebs there and didn’t hold much interest for me, a sports columnist looking for an angle. But then the word came to the press room — Trump just made a hole in one.

Good enough for someone who didn’t have a topic. I rushed over to Spyglass, where he was playing, found his foursome and, a little tentatively, walked up to the tee and introduced myself. Let’s just say that there are a lot of golfers who would not have been pleased to be interrupted during their very important round of golf.

I needn’t have worried. Trump was delighted.

“The San Francisco Chronicle?” he asked, then put his arm around my shoulders turned and announced it dramatically to the entire gallery. “The San Francisco Chronicle! Right here!”

He hit his drive — and I have to say he’s a big guy, swings really hard and hit it a mile — and then told me to come with him. I walked over to the side of the fairway, next to the ropes, which is where the media is supposed to be.

“No, no, no,” he said, pulling me out to walk down the middle of the fairway. “Come with me.”

And that’s how it went for the next nine holes. The course marshals would see me, clearly not where I was supposed to be, and Trump would brush them off imperiously.

“San Francisco Chronicle,” he’d say. “He’s with me.”

And that’s the part that carries over to today. It became clear in those two hours that more than anything — golf, business or his then-main-squeeze Marla Maples (who also showed up at Spyglass) — Trump loved the attention. He talked to everyone, worked the crowd and tried out sound bites for my column. He was, despite my early reluctance, hilarious.

Would I vote for him? Of course not.

But my sense is he wouldn’t care. This is what he lives for, swimming in the pool of public opinion. I doubt even he thinks he can win. When serious journalists point out the long list of topics that he once favored but now opposes — like a woman’s right to to an abortion, which he supported but now is against — he brushes it off like the golf course marshals.

He’s more into flying around the country, tossing out outrageous quotes, being watched and listened to. It’s just like he was on the golf course. His idea wasn’t to win the tournament, it was to be the center of attention.

In short, it worked out to be an easy column, and Trump did everything he could to help. On one green he was looking at a relatively long putt and a smart aleck yelled, “Bet you $20 you can’t make it.” Trump, of course, drained the putt and went immediately over to collect.

“It’s expensive to be a jerk, isn’t it?” he said, to roars from the spectators.

About a week later a letter arrived. It was from Trump, on his gold embossed stationary. He thanked me for writing the column and signed it at the bottom. I had it on my home office wall for a while, but eventually, during a cleanup, I threw it away.